John. Any bar, any crofs, any impediment, will be medicinable to me; I am fick in difpleafure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart his affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canft thou cross this marriage? Bora. Not honeftly, my Lord; but fo covertly, that no dishonesty shall appear in me.

John. Shew me briefly how.

Bora. I think I told your Lordship a year fince, how much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waitinggentlewoman to Hero.

John. I remember.

Bora. I can, at any unfeasonable inftant of the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's chamber-window. John. What life is in that, to be the death of this marriage?

Bora. The poifon of that lies in you to temper. Go you to the Prince your brother; fpare not to tell him, that he hath wrong'd his honour in marrying the renown'd Claudio (whose estimation do you mightily hold up) to a contaminated ftale, fuch a one as Hero.

John. What proof shall I make of that?

Bora. Proof enough to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato. Look you for any other iffue?

John. Only to defpite them I will endeavour any thing.

Bora. Go then find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the Count Claudio alone; tell them that you know Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the Prince and Claudio, as in a love of your brother's honour, who hath made this match, and his friend's reputation, (who is thus like to be cozen'd with the femblance of a maid), that you have difcover'd thus. They will hardly believe this without trial offer them inftances, which fhall bear no lefs likelihood than to fee me at her chamber-window; hear me call Margaret Hero; hear Margaret term me Borachio; and bring them to fee this the very night before the intended wedding: for, in the mean time, I will fo fashion the matter, that Hero fhall be abfent; and there fhall appear fuch feeming truths of Hero's difloyalty, that jealoufy

fhall be called affurance, and all the preparation overthrown.

John. Grow this to what adverse issue it can, I will put it in practice: be cunning in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats.

Bora. Be thou conftant in the accufation, and my cunning fhall not fhame me.

John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage.

[Exeunt.

Changes to Leonato's orchard.

Enter Benedick, and a boy.

SCENE VIII.

Bene. Boy,

Boy. Signior.

Bene. In my chamber-window lies, a book, bring it hither to me in the orchard.

Boy. I am here already, Sir.

[Exit boy. Bene. I know that, but I would have thee hence, and here again.I do much wonder, that one man, seeing how much another man is a fool, when he dedicates his behaviours to love, will, after he hath laugh'd at fuch fhallow follies in others, become the argument of his own fcorn, by falling in love! and fuch a man is Claudio. I have known, when there was no music with him but the drum and the fife; and now had he rather hear the taber and the pipe: I have known when he would have walk'd ten mile a-foot to fee a good armour; and now will he lie ten nights awake, carving the fashion of a new doublet. He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, like an honeft man and a foldier; and now he is turn'd orthographer, his words are a very fantastical banquet, juft fo many ftrange dishes. May I be fo converted, and fee with thefe eyes? I cannot tell; I think not. I will not be fworn, but love may transform me to an oifter; but I'll take my oath on it, till he have made an oifter of me, he shall never make me fuch a fool. One woman is fair, yet İ am well; another is wife, yet I am well; another vir⚫ tuous, yet I am well. But till all graces be in one woman, one woman fhall not come in my grace. Rich fhe fhall be, that's certain; "wife, or I'll none; vir

"tuous, or I'll never cheapen her; fair, or I'll never "look on her; mild, or come not near me; noble, or not I for an angel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, and her hair fhall be of what colour it please God *. Ha! the Prince and Monfieur Love! I will

hide me in the arbour.

SCENE

IX.

[Withdraws.

Enter Don Pedro, Leonato, Claudio, and Balthazar. Pedro. Come, fhall we hear this mufic?

Claud. Yea, my good Lord; how ftill the evening is, As hufh'd on purpose to grace harmony!

Pedro. See you where Benedick hath hid himself? Claud. O very well, my Lord; the mufic ended, We'll fit the hid fox with a pennyworth.

Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that fong again. Balth. O good my Lord, tax not fo bad a voice To flander mufic any more than once.

Pedro. It is the witnefs ftill of excellency,

To put a ftrange face on his own perfection; pray thee, fing; and let me woo no more †.

I

Sigh no more, ladies, figh no more,
Men were deceivers ever;

One foot in fea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never :

Hinting fatirically at the art used by ladies in dying their hair of a colour different from what it is by nature.

Balt. Because you talk of wooing, I will fing;

Since many a wooer doth commence his fuit

To her he thinks not worthy, yet he wooes;
Yet will he fwear he loves.

Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come;

Or if thou wilt hold longer argument,

Do it in notes.

Balth. Note this before my notes,

There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.

Pedro Why, these are very crotchets that he speaks,

Note, notes, forfooth, and noting.

Bene. Now, divine air; now is his foul ravish'd! Is it not strange, that fheeps guts fhould hale fouls out of mens bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when all 's done.

The SONG, &c.

Then figh not fo, but let them go,
And be you blyth and bonny;
Converting all your founds of woe
Into Hey nony, nony.

Sing no more ditties, fing no mo
Of dumps fo dull and heavy;
The frauds of men were ever fo,
Since fummer was first leafy.
Then figh not fo, &c.

Pedro. By my troth, a good fong.
Balth. And an ill finger, my Lord.

Pedro. Ha, no; no, faith; thou fing ft well enough for a fhift.

Bene." If he had been a dog, that should have "howl'd thus, they would have hang'd him; and, I

pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief: I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it.

Pedro. Yea, marry, doft thou hear, Balthazar? I pray thee, get us fome excellent mufic; for to-morrow night we would have it at the Lady Hero's chamberwindow.

[Exit Balthazar. Come hither, Leonato ;

Balth. The best I can, my Lord.
Pedro. Do fo: farewel.

what was it you told me of to-day, that your niece Beatrice was in love with Signior Benedick?

Claud. O, ay;

fits.

-ftalk on, ftalk on, the fowl

I did never think that lady would have loved any man.

Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful, that she should so doat on Signior Benedick, whom the hath in all outward behaviours feem'd ever to abhor.

Bene. Is't poffible? fits the wind in that corner?

[Afide. Leon. By my troth, my Lord, I cannot tell what to think of it; but that fhe loves him with an inraged af fection, it is paft the definite of thought.

Pedro. May be fhe doth but counterfeit.

Claud. Faith, like enough.

Leon, O God! counterfeit ? there was never counVOL. II.

C

terfeit of paffion came fo near the life of paffion, as the difcovers it.

Pedro. Why, what effects of paffion fhews fhe?
Claud. Bait the hook well, this fish will bite.

[Afide. Leon. What effects, my Lord? fhe will fit you, you heard my daughter tell you how.

Claud. She did, indeed.

Pedro. How, how, I pray you? you amaze me: I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all affaults of affection.

Leon. I would have fworn it had, my Lord; efpecially against Benedick.

Bene. [Afide.] I fhould think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow fpeaks it; knavery cannot fure hide himself in fuch reverence.

Claud. He hath ta'en th' infection, hold it up.

[Afide. Pedro. Hath fhe made her affection known to Benedick?

Leon. No, and fwears he never will; that's her

torment.

Claud. 'Tis true, indeed, fo your daughter fays: fhall I, fays fhe, that have so oft encounter'd him with fcorn, write to him that I love him?

Leon. This fays fhe now, when she is beginning to write to him; for fhe'll be up twenty times a-night, and there will fhe fit in her fmock, till fhe have writ a fheet of paper. My daughter tells us all.

Claud. Now you talk of a fheet of paper, I remember a pretty jeft your daughter told us of.

Leon, O,

-when the had writ it, and was reading it over, fhe found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet.

Claud. That

Leon. O, fhe tore the letter into a thousand halfpence; rail'd at herself, that fhe fhould be fo immodeft, to write to one that fhe knew wou'd flout her: I measure him, fays fhe, by my own fpirit, for I fhould flout him if he writ to me; yea, though I love him, I . fhould.

Claud, Then down upon her knees fhe falls, weeps,